On the other side of nowhere
by Shieru-chan
Summary: AU. Roxas lived a relatively normal life, that is until he turned eleven. After witnessing a cruel accident, he started hearing and seeing things he wasn't supposed to. Bruised, rejected and beaten, sinking deeper into his own insanity and a nasty addiction, will he find the strength to live? Or will a certain redhead save him? - dark themes, Akuroku


AN/ Hello there my darlings. It has been a while. Feels like forever since I last posted anything new. Okay, before I carry on, I have something to say. My dear followers, yes the ones that follow my shitty unfinished stories: I AM SORRY. I am sorry for not updating, I was busy with my exams and now that I am free I somehow ended up in KH fandom (Danielle :I) And as you all know with KH fandom comes MAJOR FEELS. I just HAD TO pour them out, you know? So here have this one shot from yours truly. Better get this over with and then return to the unfinished stuff.

Dedicating this to the same shit that dragged me down into this PIT OF FEELS. Deni, enjoy this and cry fangirl tears.

The song used: Framing Hanley - Built for sin

* * *

Title: On the other side of nowhere

Pairing: Axel/Roxas, mentions of others. The fic is mostly Roxas-centic.

Rating: M

Warnings: Major violence, drug abuse, elements of horror, sexual content and other dark themes. **Read at your own risk.**

.

.

.

On the other side of nowhere

.  
_Conscience is a faint, unpleasant sound. You've worried enough, here's your chance so take it. _

_So you should speak, while they're still listening._

* * *

_'You're a freak, Roxas. That's what you are.'_

The first time it happened he had only recently turned eleven. A tender age, don't you think? Kids of eleven years old should be playing with their friends without a single care in the world, playing tag and other fun games as their feet left thin clouds of dust behind them, worn out soles of their shoes padding against the pavement. Kids of eleven, still standing on that thin thin invisible bound that separates the lighthearted childhood and early adolescence, that later led into adulthood, full of worries and responsibilities, with its hard and complicated life following, crashing down on top of your shoulders full force.

An eleven year old wasn't supposed to hear bones breaking and see blood splattering against the road, as the car hit the poor unfortunate kid in the middle of a hot summer day.

Before that cruel accident, Roxas had a relatively normal life, as described above. He was well liked and loved, had many friends (but no one could ever beat Hayner, Pence and Olette, the kids he knew since he was in diapers, they were absolutely inseparable) and in general was a fun kid to be around. Roxas never had any enemies of any sort, and if he did, the rivalries soon turned into friendships. He lived in a well off and quiet neighborhood in a small, cozy, one-story house with his mother. His father was a businessman and Roxas rarely saw him, he sometimes felt lonely because of that and he felt jealousy prickling him every time he saw his best friend Hayner interact with his own dad, but the feelings of jealousy were always wiped away when he remembered what a great mom he had. A mom that loved her little boy the most in the whole wide world, a mother who cared for him. On that fateful day she was the one who sent him off to buy some milk for her, since she had forgotten to get it herself while going grocery shopping the night before.

Roxas had whined and tried his everything to get off the hook, it was so early and he wanted to roll around in bed just a little bit longer, but his mother wouldn't hear any of his whining. She only slipped enough money for the milk and some sea salt ice cream for later and sent him off.

If he thought about it long enough, Roxas could actually pin point just where exactly his life had started going downhill.

The walk to the shop wasn't exactly a long one, nor was it all that short but with his pace it felt like forever. It was still early, the vast blue sky and the too humid for morning temperature promised a hot day. After reaching the small convenience store at the other end of a small park where he used to play with his best friends when he was younger (Roxas was convinced that playgrounds for a boy of his age were too childlish, he was almost an adult now) and quickly made his way inside, sighing at the cold air from the fan above hitting his face. Glad that there were little to no people inside—_really_, no one went shopping this _early_, how did his mom not understand it—he quickly got the milk, grabbed some ice cream, paid and ran out, keen on getting home as soon as possible. The hot air hit his face again, sun almost blinding him and he lifted his free hand to cover his light blue eyes.

The walk back was just as long and just as boring as the trek before, Roxas had thought as he kicked a stray pebble aside and contemplated if he should ask his friends to go swimming today. Their parents still wouldn't let them to go to the lake side alone without any parental figure to watch over them, which was very stupid in Roxas' eyes because he wasn't a child, but there was always the option to go and have fun at Olette's place. Her family owned a swimming pool, it wasn't exactly too deep but it was big enough.

He was about to melt in this sweltering heat.

And his sea salt ice cream were melting.

It would be a waste to not eat at least one of them. He was sure that his mother wouldn't mind.

Quickly, he fished out the cold packet from the white plastic bag he was carrying and started picking at the wrapper that just wouldn't tear. Roxas' annoyance flared up and he set the groceries down, using both hands to try and open the little devil, sighing contently when the dark purple cover ripped and the blond unwrapped the frozen blue treat. Just as he was about to get a lick of it, a horrendous sound of rubber screeching against the road reached his ears and his eyes shot up from his ice cream out of pure instinct.

The next few seconds felt like someone had played a movie in a slow motion.

Roxas vaguely realized that he was already at the other end of the park in front of the street. His feet were glued to the sidewalk as he saw a black car screeching into a halt, leaving black lines on the road. The car tossed to the sides slightly, attracting attention of many passerby's, all of them looking up with frowns marring their faces, some of them whispering 'drunkards' beneath their breaths. And just then Roxas saw something else.

A kid that couldn't be any older than him ran out into the street. He seemed to be chasing something, a shade of black fur caught the corner of Roxas' eyes. The black car gave one final screech and before Roxas could scream out 'watch out' the collision had happened. A sickening thud resounded all the way across the street, now quiet and lifeless, people stuck mid step, faces full of pure horror.

It wasn't anything like Roxas had ever seen.

He felt like his ability to breath was completely stopped, his heart beating loud and clear in his ears a fast and unsteady '_thud, thud, thud_'. It felt like something out of his worst nightmares, his senses heightened. He could still see the utter shock and terror in the young boy's eyes before the collision had happened. He could still hear the sloshing of the dark red, almost black, blood as it hit the pavement, could hear the bones cracking, shattering from the pressure, limbs bending.

The smell of fuel and something else, something tangy, was still lingering in the air. Screams started echoing all the way across the street, shocked and loud, and Roxas' fingers went lax, ice cream slipping from his fingers, splattering on the pavement in a mess of blue, just like the boy's blood, the puddle of crimson going blacker and bigger with every passing second. Roxas watched, still rooted to his place on the sidewalk, eyes dry and burning, the only thing visible from the boy before was a small hand peaking out from underneath the metal monster that just smashed into him. The hand grew paler and paler with every second, red contrasting against the now pure white, running down the crushed slender fingers and they gave one last agonizing twitch before it relaxed completely.

The blond's already wide sky blue eyes widened even more in realization.

He was gone.

The boy had _died_ right before his very own eyes in the cruelest way he'd ever witnessed.

The chaos around him returned Roxas to his senses, the world spinning, going too fast and he wasn't able to keep up. His ears were ringing from all of that noise, heart beating somewhere in his throat and he felt bile rise up his throat, knees week, vision blurry.

So easily, in an instant.

Eyes still glued to the spot of the crime, now heavily obscured by many _many_ people gathered there. Pupils dilating, Roxas was about to fall to his knees, when he felt someone turning him around, screaming into his ears how he shouldn't be seeing this and how he needs to look away. Questions about his living place were thrown every way, mingling with the screams of 'monster' and '_you killed him_' just added to his already abused hearing and the world tilted, suddenly turning black, then white, then black again.

He passed out.

* * *

He did not know how he got home.

When he woke up, there was his mother, worried and pale, launching herself at him the moment he started moving around, the rustling of the sheets had obviously warned her that he had woken up. She started crying halfway through her speech of how worried she was, and how she shouldn't have had sent him away like that, how all of this was her fault.

Roxas just let her squeeze him, not paying the slightest bit of attention to his surroundings. All he could feel was a cold ache at the bottom of his heart. He felt out of place, like there was a wall isolating him from the outside world, from his mother's hug. His eyes traced the room, cold and unseeing and he felt his heart throb in fear. It felt like this wasn't right. _This wasn't where he was supposed to be._

Fear gripped his heart even more when he realized that he shouldn't even be thinking this, his own thoughts adding to his panic even more, scaring him until he started shaking, fingers twitching lightly. His mother released him when she felt just how tense and out of it her son was.

"Roxas, honey, are you okay?"

Roxas did not respond, his body shaking, on the edge of a seizure as cold sweat ran down his forehead. He saw his mother place a cold palm on his forehead, stroking slightly, checking the temperature, dark blue eyes full of concern and everything was just so _wrong, wrong, wrong—_

"R-Roxas, don't scare me, dear, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Speak to me, Roxas, _please_—" he heard notes of panic in her voice, but none of it registered inside his brain. It was like his body and his senses refused to cooperate together. He didn't feel her palm stroking his face at all, didn't feel anything, just fear and confusion wracking his all body, until he couldn't breathe, _oh how he wanted to breathe_,_ so much_, tears springing to his eyes, soothing his dry eyes.

The world turned black again.

* * *

It was the catalyst to all of his troubles that led him all of his measly seventeen year old life. Not much really.

But far too long.

Ever since '_that accident_'—Roxas _hates_ thinking about it, not like it changes anything—something inside of him has changed, something that made his life turn upside down, something that made that same life turn so bitter and disgusting that Roxas sometimes did not knew why he bothered playing, yes_ playing_, it anymore. It wasn't a life, it was an act. Wake up, go through day and fall asleep. Repeat. Repeat it for years.

A new part of him was born, a part he wished he could ignore so that it would never bother him again. A part that made him the black sheep among white. Made him stand out more than he wanted to. Made him a freak.

There was no other word for it and he didn't even try sugar coating it. A freak: _noun_- something unusual, out of place. Something that others refuse to accept in their 'normal' society.

Someone who sees and hears things people aren't supposed to see or hear. Otherwise known as Roxas.

It was simple as that. Lesson learned.

It wasn't so bad at first. The next day after 'the incident' when he woke up he was back to normal. His mother had said that the freak out was most likely caused after witnessing such terrible things. Just mere shock, he would get better later on. She was _oh so wrong_; it made him turn bitter whenever he remembered it.

_'It will get better'_ she said. _'It takes time.'_

It didn't get better. He clung to that hope so desperately for three years in a row, but then he realized that all of this was a lie. This… thing will lead him for the rest of his life and he should give up all false hopes of it passing away. It wasn't something puberty related, you just did not grow out of it. It was deep, a part of something lying just beneath his sanity, his consciousness. His own private hell.

People always wondered: where was hell? Did you go there after you committed crimes and died? No. Hell was inside your head, your own mind trapping you. That was the true hell, the true insanity.

But that isn't all of it. Yes, the negativity of ones mind and heart truly consisted hell, but the negativity of others made it complete. Made it sting more, raw feelings clawing at your chest. You're not needed. You_ can't_ be saved. You're so far gone you won't get out and this abyss will drag you down deeper and deeper until you drown in _them_: in your own thoughts.

It made Roxas think, where did he go wrong? What did he do to deserve this? He was a mere person, no different from others. Sure, he was a little weird, that part of his own dark consciousness made him stand out, but why couldn't it be overlooked? Why were the _'odd'_ ones always so hard to accept? What had made them different in the end? How were people such as him supposed to live in this world, in this society were 'weird' was not an option, wasn't even a choice. Everything was alright before that day, he had friends, he was treated right, so why couldn't it just stay that way?

So many questions and so little answers. The questions no one had answers to, the questions no one wanted to answer and never will. Weird was _never_ normal and it never will be no matter how much he wanted it to be that way, no matter how much Roxas wanted to scream and cry at the very first stage of his 'new life' that they were all human and weird was not bad. He wanted to shout but no one was listening. Not his friends, who weren't worthy of that title, not his mom, not the rest of the world.

He had great friends, Roxas thought. The best friends anyone could ever ask for. He had a wonderful mother, who was so loving and kind. But in the end they just weren't kind enough. They followed the rules set by the society and the word 'weird' did not belong among the normal.

It started with basic things. Sometimes he would wake up and wouldn't realize where he was until later. Sometimes he would forget where he was going, and then go to weird places instead, sometimes far away, worn out and tired. He would sleep walk, zone out, his consciousness would drift somewhere far away. Then it started getting worse.

He could no longer look at himself on the mirrors, his reflection sent unpleasant electrifying shivers down his spine, shaking his whole frame. Roxas started avoiding looking at the mirrors, and did everything he could for it to stay that way. He'd fix his hair while seated on the edge of his bed, hands threading his blond hair out of intuition, eyes downcast. He quickly got a nick name for himself, something about him and his 'spiky, ruffled chicken hair'.

Sometimes Roxas started sleepwalking. When he would fall asleep in his own bed, the next morning he would wake up curled in the corner of the room. It creeped him out, yet he was glad he did not do that often. He never sleep walked now.

His mother only took concern when she heard him breaking the mirror hanging in his room and then when she asked how it happened, Roxas had no memory of doing anything like that, only the glass shards stuck in his knuckles, leaking red liquid and throbbing with every clench of his fist betrayed him.

His mother thought he should go see a therapist. It just wasn't normal. Six months had passed and Roxas wasn't getting any better, medical care was needed.

Yet again a bad choice.

The therapist was an old man who was dead set on infiltrating his consciousness, the beehive buzzing inside his head, the place he'd later call his own personal hell, his oblivion. The more he talked, the more Roxas' mind buzzed angrily, the bees inside his head not that pleased when their beehive was hit with a stick that stinking old man was holding. His hell wanted to make itself known, it wanted to surface so that Roxas couldn't control it.

It started surfacing.

It took three long years for it to reach the breaking point, steady and surely. When with his friends Roxas would start talking nonsense he had no recollections off. He'd start noticing things, hearing things. A kid running behind Hayner's back trying to kill himself, trying to drown and Roxas would follow, no, not because he was self destructive like the doctors had said, but because he wanted to help him. He'd see people dying around him when in reality nothing happened. He heard them talking, obscure figures of black, like shadows, melting and then sometimes they would turn to him and stare at Roxas with their glassy black eyes, mouths wide open. The melted shadows would turn the ground to mud, slick and sticky, ice cold like the waters of a swamp, pulling him down into the gooey mess so that he would join them, and become one of them.

Roxas cried. He cried and screamed, and choked, because _this_, all of this was something he'd never seen before, something straight out of a nightmare or a horror movie. The sky would turn gray and cloudy, like the weather before a huge storm and he would sometime curl up on the middle of the street, hands on ears, both eyes closed, senses heightened and he would forget who he was, his name, his appearance, his everything. He would become a part of this nightmare, a shadow of his old self, because he wasn't strong enough to fight it, did not know how to.

His odd behavior made his life even worse. It wasn't long before all of his friends left him, one after another, disappearing, calling him a freak and mental. He should be in a mental institution underneath ten layers of restrains, kids would say. Before he could know it his best friends, the ones he knew since he was only a little kid running around in the playground, turned their backs on him. The scornful look of Hayner's, the creeped out one on Pence's and the apologetic and fearful one on Olette's. One after another they walked out, left him behind and carried on with their lives, not really wanting to do anything with them. They tried to bring Roxas back but in the end no efforts could do that. No one could save him. He was doomed for this insanity. He was left alone in this dark dirty room that was his mind, with the doors locked and he did not have the key out.

And yet he still refused to say a word to his mother and that creep that was his therapist.

Still, his mother caught wind of it. The way their neighbors looked at her, frowns of disgust, others apologetic. They called Roxas possessed, insane and they did not want their children near him, what if it was contagious. Roxas was the odd one. The freak of nature.

And freaks were supposed to be banished. Sent off so that they wouldn't get in the way of the sane people.

When Roxas had turned fifteen, ruffling his feathers was no longer enough for the bullies who picked on him. Fights started and after some time Roxas stopped fending for himself. The faster they did it, the better it was for him. The earlier he could go home and lock himself up inside his own room and pretend he experienced intense headaches when his mother banged on his door and told him to get going to the hospital.

His mother had also given up on him by then. Sure, she tried to hide it, mask it as best as she could, but Roxas could sense the disdain pouring from her. They did not talk all that much, breakfast and lunch spent in complete and utter silence and Roxas was glad when she went to work late in the evening, a slight sense of relief and bliss, glad that he had the house all for himself. He'd turn the music up really loud, not really giving a fuck about the angry neighbors and try to concentrate on his homework, trying his best to keep up with the school work even though he dreaded it. Especially math. He just did not get how any of this shit would help him in real life and how solving the equation and finding the _x_ wouldn't solve the problems in his life.

Then one day, right out of nowhere his mom decided not to go to work that night. She called him out and told him that they were moving. Roxas did not know if he should be extremely happy or sad, so he settled for the indifferent response. When he asked his mother why they had to move so suddenly, she just said that working night shifts was tiring and brushed the pale blond hair out of her tired eyes. 'A job proposal with decent working hours' she said, all thanks to the connections his dad had. After they were done, she dismissed him with a flick of her wrist and turned back to washing the dishes and Roxas ran off to his room as fast as he could.

If they went somewhere else that meant new people. New people meant new beginning. Maybe, just maybe, he could start anew if he could control his own mind in front of others, maybe he'd feel alive again. Like he had a reason to live. Slowly the walls he carefully built around himself, walls of indifference and thoughts how this did not bother him, started crumbling down if only just a little bit and for the first time in four years he felt like he could breathe just a little easier.

* * *

That was the first phase in his life. The second one came after he left his hometown, and settled in the new city. It wasn't a big town, much like the one he lived at for the last fifteen years, but a little bigger. The new house was very much like the old one except it had two floors and Roxas immediately claimed the second floor for himself. It was nice really, a fresh start. Yet his blissful mood was soon ruined by a phone conversation he had heard. Roxas was helping his mom to move the boxes with their stuff into their new home and he was about to ask her where to put the newest one when he heard the words his mother always avoided to tell him directly whispered in a quick, disappointed tone to the phone pressed tightly against her ear, voice quiet as she looked around, making sure no one heard her.

"I just hope no one will find out how he is. The_ freak_ he is, the _shame_ he is. I could no longer stand the way the neighbors looked at us, all of my friends started treating me coldly and turned their backs on me because of the troubles that child causes…" she sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead with her palm, a habit she has developed. "If only you were here to help me go through it, I don't know what I should do anymore…hm? Yes, the doctors said that what he's experiencing… It is out of their medical field, it isn't caused by shock nor is it schizophrenia, nothing fits the description, one of them even suggested to take him to an exorcist, can you _believe_ that?" a bitter laugh had escaped her. "I can't do this anymore, dear, if this doesn't stop soon… All I can say is that I am ashamed to be his mother and I no longer have the strength to fight."

Roxas eyes widened as he stood frozen, hidden by the thin wall, hands shaking violently. He mustered the last of his strength to hold the box from tumbling down and giving himself away. He'd always known, he noticed it. His mother's dislike, the way she looked like she did not want to be in the hospital after a particularly hard beating he had received last year. There was no use crying over spilt milk.

And for some reason he did not cry that night despite the hurtful things he heard his own mother say about him.

* * *

Life was never kind to him and he was stupid to expect something good.

And now that two years had passed and he had one year left until he turned eighteen and ran away for good, leaving his mother before she could leave him he realized that life was just a game. You did not live a life like that, you played it. Like an autopilot, same four functions.

Wake up, try to survive the day without getting beaten up into a bloody pulp or yelled at by his teachers, go to bed and fall asleep without bothering to take off your shoes or clothes in general. Repeat.

Somewhere along the line new things had added to the whole four functions to the life he lead but those were just minor things in order to keep his mind clear and his vision steady.

He had discovered those things only recently. But let's start at the beginning, alright?

Roxas didn't beat himself up over his mother's lack of love, he just didn't find it in himself to care and the more time passed the more he felt like he felt disdain towards her too, her complete and utter lack of fate in him triggered such reactions. If you hate someone it is just a matter of time until they start hating you back, it was how life worked.

His school… It was the same hell he had experienced before.

If not worse, now that they were all teenagers. The school grounds were vast and big, the building itself monstrous unlike the small, comfy looking (haha) school back in his hometown. You'd think you could find a corner where you could have a little piece and quiet and some time for yourself, but no such thing existed here. It was fully packed, all kinds of people, from stoners hanging out in the shadows of the red brick walls to popular jocks, from nerds holed in the science labs to worshipers of rap and hip hop culture, their music blasting loud enough for the entire campus to hear, a several of different mixes that made Roxas' ears bleed. From preps only speaking in '_omg no way_'s to goths and their interesting ways, along with their choices of fashion. But Roxas did not have a chance to blend into any of these groups because his reputation was ruined on the first day by a certain person.

And who else could it be other than the person he hated the most when he was a kid, the one who picked fights with him, the one who was dead set to make his life miserable, a living hell, the one he was glad to have gotten rid of just three years ago when the dickwad had moved away, the king of assholes Seifer.

Apparently, the guy had quite a name for himself and it wasn't in a bad way, oh no. As dumb and unappealing as Seifer was in Roxas' eyes, did not mean that others thought the same. Seifer was popular, well liked, he played in various sports teams, was fashionable and the girls were drooling, saying something about how beautiful and cool the blond gorilla was. The moment Seifer had caught wind of the newbie Roxas from Twilight town the whole school had roared with shouts of freak and creep.

That was it. He pretty much did not have the chance to either make friends or fit in. Instead of friends he got his hands full of enemies and a personal Seifer lead squad to break his ribs in and make sure his nose was bleeding every day.

What had he done to deserve this…?

He made his way through the spacious corridors, foreign people he had never seen in his life looking at him like he was a piece of trash, a stray dog that needed to be kicked, their eyes gleaming, eyeing him like he was a prey and in a way Roxas was. They'd eat him alive he had thought when he saw the faceless crowd that produced a high noise staring his way, and he cursed his short height even more, tugging on the strings of his black hoodie in order to calm himself. Fear was prickling at him only a little, but it was justified.

He only had a stuck out foot trip him four times that day, got shoved just two and then received a beating welcome party by his own personal bullies led by the king of assholes himself.

Just one taste had diminished the flames of hope that were flickering faintly inside his chest and he turned back to the way he was before, hiding himself behind his own carefully built walls, plastering a face of indifference every time something hurtful was sent his way. Sure, in those two years, there was a time he had experienced some form of relief that came in the form of two girls. One of them was a girl named Naminé, a weird one she was. She was in his art and history classes and she wasn't very liked, but it didn't seem to bother her. People referred to her as the ghost girl, seeing how she had a pale complexion and always dressed in white no matter what. Naminé was aloof and didn't talk much; eyes fixed on her sketchbook most of the time. She wanted to become an artist and travel around the world she said to him during the art class as she fixed his drawing for him, which Roxas was grateful for since he wasn't the one for art, even though he didn't suck at it. She had the potential Roxas thought as he looked at her sketchbook, the traces left behind by her pencil smooth and almost perfect, creating wonderful and majestic views.

Outside of their shared classes Roxas and Naminé didn't talk all that much. He sometimes thought that the girl wasn't listening to him either way, most of the time their conversations were onesided, Roxas doing the talking, while Naminé looked either at her sketchbook or a notebook and when her icy blue eyes did turn to him it felt like she wasn't exactly looking at him. It was a weird feeling, but it was how he felt.

Sometimes she would nod her head in a greeting when they passed each other in the hallways and sometimes she tried to stand up for him when the others had started doing nasty stuff to Roxas like messing with his stuff or shoving him (it was a habit, he could no longer feel his left thigh with all the hits it had taken during the years) but all of her protests were killed in a second and she was insulted along with Roxas for defending a freak like him. 'Two birds of the same feather flock together' they said, and Roxas had forbidden her to ever try and do something as stupid as going against their classmates for his sake.

But she didn't really listen.

His other friend, his best friend that he somehow managed to find in this hell called school, a goth girl called Xion. Roxas really liked Xion she was a little more talkative and easy going than Naminé and she hanged out with him at school whenever she could, when she wasn't busy with her own friends. Xion was weird in that sense, the people she talked to were weird too, but Roxas had no right to say that. It wasn't like people hated her, but much like Naminé, she wasn't exactly liked either, especially by all of those girly girls since Xion was a little boyish, kept her black hair short, refused to wear any kinds of make up and dressed in a boy like fashion too. In contrast to Naminé who was all white Xion was all black.

Xion would bring a smile to Roxas' face; they'd talk about weird things and eat sea salt ice cream together. Despite her kind and easy going exterior, there was a layer of her Roxas almost never saw. A hint of depression and something dark, something very sad. She cut herself Naminé had said to him and Roxas blamed himself for not noticing. She was broken inside, a lone orphan with an abusive adoptive family, doing god knows what to her.

Three months ago Xion had killed herself.

They had found her in her own house, in a bath tub. She had drank a whole bottle of sleeping pills and after that she never woke up. She will never wake up, and she will never look at him with her dark blue eyes, never smile, never laugh, never will they eat ice cream together. Xion was in and out of his life just like that, and no one in the school had missed her presence, no one was sad like she hadn't been there to begin with.

And then Roxas started contemplating his own life and the non existent worth of it. Would the same thing happen if he had died, if he had stepped out of his life willingly? Would no one truly remember? No one would even show up for his funeral, not even his mother and if she did it would probably be for the show only. Maybe Naminé would come, but he doubted that too, the blond didn't really see them as close friends. He'd die alone a dog's death and he would sleep underneath the ground alongside Xion and many others. He would wander the surface like one of those black shadows that he saw, they didn't appear that much nowadays, but they were still here. The hell was still there, lingering and it never disappeared, never left.

Thoughts like that kept on plaguing his already tired, abused mind, his heart aching, mourning his friend, his true friend, the one who hadn't left him behind when everyone turned against him, called him a freak. Even in this situation Xion saw the real him. She had managed to unlock the doors to his mind and the moment he turned away she had disappeared without a trace, the locks in place just like they were before they met.

His pain was visible, and he wore it on the sleeve for everyone to see and someone had taken pity. Taken pity, promised him to make it all go away, to make him find peace of mind.

That's how he met Marluxia and his little gang.

He needed the help, he couldn't refuse any kind of mental relief that would make it all stop, he _needed_ it to stop.

Roxas had taken up drugs, and they were the best medicine he ever had.

* * *

It was swimming.

It felt like swimming or maybe drowning. You drifted in and out of consciousness.

Everyday.

Wake up, go through life, get beaten up, get yelled at, go home, inject a dose, drift, sleep, inject another just for the hell of it.

The skin on his left arm was rough to the touch and he could hardly find the vein anymore. He had the money for that shit, he'd been saving up for things he never bought and had plenty of it in the stash underneath his bed after all these years. Marluxia would give it to him, either him or Larxene, he'd pay and then he would get high. Drugs calmed his mind. He felt like he knew who he was again, didn't feel like a piece of something that resided within his own body. After the effects wore off, pain would start, sometimes Roxas felt like clawing his skin off, but then it would pass. He tried to keep it at minimum just like Marly had suggested so that he wouldn't get hung over it, just enough to make the aches go away. It worked miracles, this stuff.

But the hallucinations that went with it did not.

Roxas was lounging on his bed at 16.31 pm, the clock beside him ticking loudly, sun trying to make its way through the pale yellow blinds. Slowly he rose up, not really sure where he was or who he was just that he was here, wherever here was, the bed creaking. Carefully, he stood on his jelly like legs and looked at himself in the mirror. A blond with ruffled spiky hair stared back at him, tired, blue, glassy eyes with huge shadows underneath them, skin pale.

The boy was ugly Roxas had decided.

The blond's nose was swollen along with one of his blue eyes. His lips were chapped, broken in several places, ugly bruises on them, caked with dried blood. A few plasters were placed on the scratched cheeks that were black blue, yellow spots dotting them where the hits were older. Maybe if the boy wasn't so abused, Roxas had thought, then maybe then he would be relatively good looking. Not beautiful or anything of the sort, but normal. Normal like any other seventeen year old.

The reflection stared at him and smiled. Roxas watched as its eyes lost the blue color, pupils taking up most of it, all black. The image blurred, glitched and suddenly wounds started appearing all over its body, deep hole like wounds, bleeding black red. Roxas raised his shirt and the mirror boy did the same its whole stomach red with gore, muscles tearing. Roxas yelped at the intense pain wringing his stomach, a taste of acid filling his throat, burning. New wounds kept opening, the pain intensified and the mirror boy tried to cover them with his hands so that the bleeding would stop and his organs wouldn't drop out, hands red, yet so pale underneath the flowing liquid, the reflection's fingers twitching.

Roxas fainted.

* * *

It just wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening.

_No one deserved this._

"Just stay away, yeah? It's for the best."

* * *

Today was special, Roxas had decided, when he saw his personal beating squad led by king of—whatever. What was the occasion for such royal treatment to gather all of the assholes to greet him? Was it his birthday or something?

Whatever was the case, Roxas wasn't about to take part in their celebrations. The moment he saw them, he pulled the hood over his head, eyes widening and turned around hoping to run away, maybe even skip the first class if needed just to not get beaten up like this in front of the whole school. He was about to adjust his schoolbag and make a run for it, when some asshole he did not know, betrayed him the moment he saw Roxas turn around.

"There he is, Seifer, go get the freak yeaaaah!"

All the curse words he had ever known zoomed inside his mind at lightning speed and at that very moment he had _almost_ resigned to the fate of public humiliation. It was only a matter of time before Seifer decided that 'friendly' shoves into the lockers or 'friendly' tussles on the way home weren't enough. There's a first time for everything, yeah?

But then again he really didn't feel like getting beaten up. He'd usually be okay, but today his survival instincts kicked in full force.

Before Seifer could turn around and properly spot him, Roxas had taken advantage of his short height and thin figure and dived into the nearest gap between people he could find. He cursed himself, the movement was too sudden and caught the violent blond's attention, face split into a cruel I'm-going-to-break-your-neck-shrimp grin. They chased him like a pack of wolves chased a rabbit, and Roxas made a mad dash for the school building, hoping to go inside and find some authority so that he could avoid the beating. As dumb as those shitheads in that group were, they were smart enough to not cause all out brawls inside the school building in fear of being expelled.

"You're not gonna get away this time, kid!" he heard someone shout behind him and a wave of laughter followed.

Before he could contemplate that maybe no, they wouldn't catch him, because he was almost at the stairs, someone had tackled him to the ground. Roxas felt the skin on his bruised cheek break for the fourth time that week and felt warm liquid flow down his face freely. _Damn, shit, fuck, they had him._

They fucking had him where they wanted him.

"Well well well, I guess you really don't have a brain underneath that spiky hair of yours, huh?" a kick to his face, the voice and the boots belonging to his tormentor. "We were just planning to talk, but now that you ignored us so rudely, I think we might as well teach you to never run away again or treat your seniors so badly."

Roxas did not need to look up to see all those shit eating grins and he heard knuckles cracking. There was a huge crowd around them, everyone staring with awe, none of the assholes brave enough to help, nor were they willing, looking forward to seeing blood painting the pavement and Roxas felt anger flood him, bits and pieces of conversations reaching his ears:

'Wow, what a freak.'

'He deserved it. Seifer should kick his ass.'

'He should go back to where he came from. We do not need his kind here.'

'Ten bucks the kid will pass out after the first blows.'

'Deal,_ hehe_.'

'How sad… if only he was normal he would look kind of cute. Such a beautiful face.'

"You know what, Seifer?" anger blinded him, clouded his better judgment. Roxas did not care if he would get his head pounded into the pavement for this. He just had to spit the venom he was holding in, had to get it out of his system, this rage, this bitterness. "Fuck you, I hope you die, you asshole. I am not afraid of you, beating an abused kid, what kind of a pussy are you? Screw you damnit—_let go!_" Roxas wiggled, but instead had his arm bent behind his back even more painfully. "Get this over with, show what a 'cool kid' you are." He spat the blood that was slowly filling his mouth and closed his eyes in resignation.

At least he said what he always wanted.

Roxas heard the crowd go '_ooooh_' could almost see the beet red flush on the violent blond's face, the air filled with cheers of 'fight, fight, fight'. Another kick to his face made Roxas see stars, another to his ribs and thighs. He was yanked back by his hair, a hiss of pain tearing through his lips and he was brought face to face with the person he hated the most.

"You're going to regret this, kid." It was whispered dangerously and the tall blond got ready to swing, aiming for his already bleeding nose—

"Hey, hey, stop, c'mon guys, not cool!" a voice Roxas never heard before, a slightly nasal ring to it resounded clear and loud. Seifer's fist stopped, the crowd grew silent, whispering among themselves, craning their necks to get a better look at the stranger.

'Uh-oh this oughta be good.'

'It's that newbie with a reputation.'

'Wow, he's kind of hot.'

'Oh shut up, is that all you ever care for? Seifer's going to go batshit insane on this kid I am sure of it.'

Roxas carefully opened his dry eyes to get a better look at the person dumb enough to step in midfight in order to stop the school's terror when it came to fighting just to protect his measly ass. Things like that just did not happen, it wasn't a fairytale and Roxas was not a damsel in distress in need of saving.

Okay, maybe he did need saving, but this guy has brought a hurricane upon himself,

The stranger was tall and lean, far too lean, but he looked rather strong. He had weird tattoos right below his cat like green eyes and the most wild and ridiculous red hair Roxas had ever seen. It was hard to miss someone like that and now that he thought carefully about it, he had seen that guy around. He was new, maybe came here a month ago or so.

The flickering flames of hope flared in Roxas' soul. If it was this person, maybe he could wave Seifer and his lackey's away, he's heard some things about him, but the redhead's name slipped his mind. It was… Was…

"Axel!" suddenly Seifer's hands loosened and Roxas was free, holding himself with his bruised palms in order to not fall down, trembling like a newborn kitten. He saw the gorilla's eyes widen and his lackeys looked stunned too, when he saw that Axel wasn't alone, a small group Roxas vaguely remembered seeing, all of them famous for causing havoc in their school. All of them had disapproving looks etched on their faces as they watched Axel's bold antics. Roxas spotted a flicker of white behind the redhead and saw that it was Naminé. She was trembling; her upper hands held in a vice like grip by Larxene who stood behind her. Naminé writhed slightly, not able to reach her friend and whined in a pathetic voice.

"_Roxas!_ Roxas, please get out of there."

The tall redhead's eyes flickered back to Naminé and then from Seifer to the slumped blond figure on the floor, bleeding and bruised. Green eyes met light blue and Axel turned serious, his figure tensing, the air around him flaring with unmasked anger.

"I see you got it memorized, that's a good start. Now there, Seiferkins, what did we talk about, hm? "Axel started in a sing song voice, but his voice couldn't avoid the venom in it, the linger of threats. "You shouldn't star fights like that. Beating up a poor defenseless kid like that, aren't you the worst? "The smile disappeared from Axel's face completely replaced by a deep frown, voice dropping down a few octaves lower, dangerous.

"Take your lackeys and get the fuck away. I don't want to see you around this kid right there ever again; you see he's important to this young lady right here. And he was important… to Xion too." He gestured to Naminé who was still struggling to free herself from Larxene's claws. "This has been going on for too long. If you have any objections, you will have to go through us first." The doubtful looks that Axel's friends sent him before turned into the ones of conviction and threats, a dark aura radiating from them.

Roxas saw Seifer swallow, but the fight in his eyes was not gone. "You can't just go around telling other people what to do,_ newbie_, watch your own shit—"

"_Now_, Seifer." Axel cut in, voice smooth, promising pain, something metallic held in his hand, inches away from Seifer's face.

The blond just gulped again and scurried away with his lackeys.

To say Roxas was shocked would be an understatement.

The next few minutes felt like a dream. Through his hazy vision he saw the crowd separating, whispering among themselves heatedly. He saw Naminé's white shoes hit the pavement before him and come to a halt when she reached his slumped form, kneeling beside him, her cold hand stroking his disheveled blond hair as she tried to keep him straight. She was mouthing words Roxas did not hear, nor did he try to understand them, vision fixed on the redhead shouting something, trying to make the crowd go away. The sound he heard was hazy like his ears were full of water, the blood in his nose cutting out his oxygen. It wasn't until Naminé tried to make him stand when the senses came back to him, overflowing.

The noise hurt his head and he almost fell, dragging his white clad friend with him when Roxas felt strong arms around him, holding him up from falling. His sensors picked a scent of something heated, a scent of a fireplace and ashes. Roxas kept on wondering how he was able to pick it up even with his nose filled with blood, but then his senses stabilized and he felt like a normal person again, the pain throbbing on his jaw and nose all to real. He took in a shuddering breath and winced at the stabbing pain inside his lungs.

Maybe they broke his ribs. It wouldn't surprise him.

"…Roxas, Roxas, get a grip, please. We need to take you to the nurse's office and then to the hospital, how could they do this to you, how horrible—" He heard Naminé rant, voice full of panic and concern, the largest string of words he'd ever heard her utter spilling out. It was really annoying. He grit his unfeeling teeth, jaw feeling like it was about to fall off from all that strain.

"Naminé, p-please, I'm fine. Stop—_stop_ talking, my head… isn't right at the moment."

She gave him one last look and shut her mouth. Just when he thought he had a peace of mind the same voice sounded above him.

"She's right, you know? You need to go to the nurse's office right now. I think that bastard Seifer broke your jaw."

Warm fingers stroked his jaw for further inspection and Axel brought his face close, level with Roxas' in order to inspect the damage. Shocked, Roxas stumbled back, flushing slightly in embarrassment; he was leaning against the tall redhead the whole time for the whole student population to see and he did not notice until Axel had decided to make himself known. The taller one had already did enough for Roxas, he did not want Axel to have even more nasty comments swirling around him just because he decided to save the freak of the school and then keep him steady.

No, Axel did not deserve that at all, this was his problem he could deal with it. It was his own thanks to his savior.

_Don't get close._

Deciding to ignore the redhead, he turned to Naminé, forcing a slight smile, the cuts on his lips tearing.

"You were very brave today, Naminé, but p-please don't ever save me again. We talked about this… I'm glad that Larxene held you back…_how_—how do you even know her...?" Roxas swayed slightly, but tried to appear steady, though he saw that he hadn't exactly fooled anyone. He felt his savior's green eyes burn into the back of his head and Naminé looked like she was about to cry. She bit back a sob, her whole frame shaking violently and she held Roxas' upper arms, squeezing. Just like Roxas she had forced a small smile, trying to hold back from breaking down.

"It doesn't matter how I know her, Roxas, I will tell you later, a-alright? We have to get you checked now, _please_ l-let's go. Can you walk? Alright, h-hold onto my shoulders i-if you fall."

With that she placed her arms around Roxas' waist and with one last sniff started to move, Roxas swaying like a leaf in the wind the whole time, but steadier than before. She sent one last thankful look to the redhead who had his mouth shut the whole time, green eyes analyzing, trying to hold himself back and not carry the bruised boy to the hospital himself, but he figured that Roxas needed more familiarity right now. Angry and hurt Axel just nodded and turned around biting his lip, trying to hold back any fierce shouts that almost escaped him, settling for curses.

Just what kind of monster could do this to a poor boy like that? What had he done to deserve this? During this month all he could do was watch the spiky hair get abused and beaten, eyes dead and unseeing, face covered in plasters. Axel had wondered how no one had ever asked him what was wrong, why didn't the teachers take notice, where were they boy's parents? Was he maybe an orphan just like Xion? What was going on?

Why did they settle for Roxas' being their punching bag? The tall redhead never understood why. He heard Roxas being called names like freak; they claimed that the boy saw things no one else did, even though not a single one of them had witnessed it, called him possessed.

They told him to stay away, they really did but in the end Axel_ couldn't._

Not because of promises or anything, he wanted to help Roxas himself.

It was only human.

The remains of the crowd still lingered on, conversations of his previous clash with Seifer whispered in quick rushed tones, eyes staring at him, some hateful, some with pity. He has brought it upon himself, Seifer's anger, but Axel could care less. He was not a coward. He'd deal with that bastard alone.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and Axel did not need to turn around to know who it was, the grip of his best friend all too familiar. The person behind him clicked his tongue in utter annoyance when he saw that the redhead wasn't about to turn around and acknowledge his existence. Instead he side stepped around the redhead, grip vice like and tight. Aquamarine eyes flashing thousands of different emotions at the same time met green, blond hair styled in a messy mohawk was more disheveled than usual, stray strands falling over the teen's forehead, the boy's mouth twisted into a concerned frown. The dirty blond stood straighter, the guitar case strapped to his back bouncing with the movement and he took a deep breath and Axel knew what was about to happen, _oh god, no, he did not need this right now—_

"_Just what the hell were you thinking, Ax?_" the blond roared, his melodious voice loud and clear. People were turning to them fast, wondering if another fight was in order. "You just friggin' stepped in! To save that kid! What is wrong with you, you should be _glad_ they did not jump on you all at once!"

"Demyx, no, for Pete's sake stop shouting, _not here_—"

The boy called Demyx, Axel's best friend since forever, an owner of a very loud and annoying when he wanted it to be voice, and he _always_ wanted it to be high and annoying when it came to knocking sense into Axel.

Demyx looked around, saw the crowds scrutinizing gaze and gave up on humiliating Axel any further. With a small sigh he swiped the blond strands out of his eyes, voice dropping down to normal melodious octaves. He poked a leather gloved finger into the tall redhead's chest, hard enough to hurt and frowned, eyes worried. "I told you, Axel… I told you to stay away from that kid. He's not right, he didn't even say anything, not a word of thanks after you stepped in, and _oh I did see_ how he pushed you away. Just… Just leave him _alone_, alright? Give up on him, he can handle this, he always could."

Anger and annoyance flared in Axel's chest, a malice stronger than before. He slapped the blond's hand away, completely ignoring the hurt look flashing in his aquamarine eyes and hissed dangerously, voice heated.

"What do you mean 'he always could'? You mean that he was always dealing with this kind of… I don't even have the fucking words to describe it, it is sure as hell ain't _human behavior_, and not a single one of you, not even _you_ Demyx, tried to help the poor kid out? "

He saw the look of utter guilt and shame on Demyx's face as the blond flushed a deep red colour and tried to form words, of apology or something else he himself did not know, but Axel did not let the blond of the hook so easily. He deserved every drop of shame the redhead could make him feel.

"This is fucking terrible,_ I can't believe this. _And you ask what is wrong with _me_? Just what the hell is wrong with _you_, Dem? What had happened to I'll-help-you-all-just-ask personality? You weren't like this before. Had Zexion's heartlessness and ignorance rubbed off on you?"

In a flash all of the shame was gone and Demyx turned angry, eyes livid, fists clenched at his sides.

"Don't you dare, Axel, don't you _dare_ to bring Zexion into this. I understand that you're upset and that you really _don't know what you're saying right now_, so I'll let this one slip just because you're my best friend, Ax, but please understand that—_this_ is something you cannot fix, this kid isn't someone you can help, this is a promise you cannot keep. She's gone Axel, get over it, you can't help a dead person—"

It was Axel's turn to cut in. "_I know_, alright? I know. She's gone, and no one here cares, like she didn't exist to begin with. But _I did_ care, Demyx and I won't let her down, even if she is 'a dead person' how you had kindly put it. I don't care if she's gone, Dem, _she was here_ and I will remember even if you and the rest just see her as someone who was once here—"

"How can you say that, Axel?" Demyx cut in, his lower lip trembling, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "What do you mean I didn't care? She was my friend Axel, we weren't as close as the two of you, _but she was a friend_. She talked to me when I didn't have hope, she always came to the concerts, and you think I do not remember? I am not heartless, I _have_ a fucking heart and_ it hurts_. I'd rather not think about her at all if it means that the pain would stop. That's what I am doing, Ax, and you should do it too. You save that kid and you will think about her every time, the wound won't ever heal. Give up on Roxas."

The blond turned around and pinched the bridge of his nose to try and hold his bitter tears back, not really wanting to appear weak in public. "I am going to find Zexy now, I told him I'd meet him before school and I am already late. Think about what I said, Ax. I just want you to stop hurting; I am your friend afterall. See you during class." And with that the blond stalked off and the crowd around them disappeared along with him.

"Now you've done it." A blue haired teen beside him whispered, a gleeful hyena like laugh coming from Larxene who stood beside him. Axel felt his eyebrows twitch and turned around whispering a quiet 'fuck you, Saix' and speed walking away.

* * *

Roxas was surprised to know that nothing in his body was actually broken. The moment the school's nurse saw him, she just gave him a look that said 'again?' and took out the fresh bandages and disinfectant, asking Naminé to leave. Roxas bore with the sting of that clear liquid, trying his best to not bite his lips and thought back to the fight before, the redhead savior who saved his bones from breaking. As the nurse rubbed disinfectant on his stinging cheek, the same cheek Axel's careful fingers had touched, afraid to hurt him anymore than he already was, unlike the white latex covered hands adding to his pain, the way those green eyes looked, long eyelashes covering them as they lidded, focusing his gaze on Roxas' wounds, the blond had made a decision.

He would stay away from Axel. Now that his mind was clearer, he realized that he should put his previous drunken like thoughts into action.

A popular kid with a reputation wasn't supposed to help the freak of school. He didn't want Axel to be hated.

This was his thanks to him.

* * *

Needless to say, it did not work.

Axel was persistent in that way, reminded him of Xion, how she felt the need to hang out with him, while Roxas tried to shun her away so that she wouldn't cause herself more troubles.

"Uh, you know I am glad that you helped me out before and all that, and I am really thankful, but would you _please_ stop stalking me? It is unnerving."

Roxas had mustered the politest response he could, fixing the strap of his schoolbag digging into his shoulder, blue eyes straight ahead, hoping to convey the message to the tall redhead that he did not _need_ the company, wanted or otherwise, and that Axel should just. Go. Away. It took every ounce of effort he could muster, but it had to be done. He was dead set on this.

After Roxas had escaped the claws of their school's nurse, he returned to classes, not really wanting to skip anymore than he already did. Surprisingly, he hadn't received a single kick the whole day nor was he shoved, pushed, his stuff wasn't missing, no legs shot out to trip him. In fact everyone kept a safe distance around him, the crowds always separated whenever he walked by. Sure, they still stared and still whispered, but no one made the effort to go near him. He got yelled at by the teachers for dozing in their classes when in reality he was having one of his episodes, the room glitching, black slimy figures staring at him from the corners of the classroom, the sky outside gray, clouds full of rain, the corners of the windows bleeding.

Roxas has gotten relatively better at handling these things, sure they freaked him out, but he always had to remind himself that this wasn't real, none of this was truly happening. No one else could see it and freaking out wasn't and option. His new therapist, a kind girl named Aerith had suggested him to do so and it had helped him to cope with this. Roxas had never told her about all of the things he saw, but she seemed to understand him and wasn't really freaked out by him like the rest, to which he was grateful. She just saw him as a boy with a lot of stress and problems in his life and tried her best to help him, make him go through the hard times. It was only her job.

Roxas always felt better after talking to Aerith, she was more motherly than his own mother was nowadays, almost never in the house. He'd talk to her and he'd feel his mind relaxing, the beehive inside his head calming, his thoughts clearer.

Roxas just paled through the whole classes and pretended to be alright, eyes darting around the room wildly, catching every teacher's attention to himself. They'd yell, say that he was a no good delinquent (for some reason they thought Roxas was the one looking for fights when in reality it was the other way around) and only once today Roxas had gotten a small piece of chalk thrown at his forehead by his math teacher.

The reason for this calm and odd behavior?

A redhead stalker.

The whole day Roxas could feel those green eyes drilling holes into the back of his head, and when he discretely turned around to look and catch the other's gaze, no one was there. It was obviously Axel's not that well masked presence that made others stay away from Roxas like he had the plague or some other disease.

Finally, at the end of the day Roxas had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, people still steering away from him and voiced it out.

"Ah well, no use hiding in the shadows any longer now that the school's out." The redhead's voice reached him from somewhere above and Roxas tensed. He turned around but no one was there. He took another 180, people staring at him and moving quicker than before. As crazy as Roxas was, he was sure as hell it was Axel's voice.

"God? Is that you? "Roxas asked, squinting his eyes, looking for a splotch of red in the crowd but did not seem to find it.

"Haha, very funny." Axel laughed, voice sarcastic. "You know, for a kid with hundreds of problems you sure have some spirit in ya. Up here, Roxie."

Roxas turned his gaze upwards. There, up in one of the many old trees on the school's campus sat Axel, his right leg swinging in lazy movements from the branch he was settled on, his back pressed against the tree. He truly did look like a cat, with those unnaturally green eyes shining from the shadows cast by the thick cloak of leaves. The only things missing were fluffy red kitty ears poking from that mane of red hair and a red sleek tail to complete the image. Stopping his train of thought before it took a dangerous turn, Roxas shook his head wildly, thinking that he perhaps was more insane than he initially thought and cleared his parched throat, the thoughts of ignoring the redhead disappearing without a trace.

"You never know when voices without a body start talking to you." Roxas said and Axel's eyebrows slanted into a frown. "Also, I never said anything about having problems, I am quite okay with my life, thank you for asking. Also don't call me Roxie ever again, or it might become an issue."

Axel looked rather deep in thought, his long leg stopped mid swing, torn between humoring the blond boy and feeling sad for his acceptance to this whole horrendous treatment, speaking as if it was no big deal and he had resigned to it completely. The redhead decided to take the safe route.

"I don't need you to tell me about your problems, to know that you have more of them than you can possibly handle, Roxie."

"I don't have any—for the last time _don't call me Roxie_."

A smile tugged at the corners of the redhead's lips and he laughed lightly. "Yeah, whatever, Roxie. Well, at least you said thank you after I saved you like a kind citizen I am, _after_ ignoring me the whole day. That's not very nice, you hurt my feelings." Axel feigned hurt, sticking his lip out and sighing dramatically as Roxas contemplated going there and shaking the tree until the redhead fell out and broke a leg. Preferably two.

"So, you confess to stalking me the whole day?"

"If that's what you wanna call it, yep, I do. Not the whole day though, just for a few breaks. Wanted a word of thanks for helping you out. I don't wanna know how you would have looked after Seifer was done with you, the neanderthal he is."

A shiver of something unpleasant ran down Roxas' spine when he thought that, he too did not want to find out how he would have looked after Seifer kicked his ass, nor was he keen to find out anytime in the near future. Roxas just shook his head exasperated, then immediately regretted the said action, agitating his pounding headache.

"If a word of thanks was all that you were after and not watching me like a creepy stalker you probably are, then you had already received it. Don't bother talking to me ever again, it is bad for you. I am sure you had already heard it, and your friends had already warned you about me. Goodbye, Axel."

Remembering that he should ignore the redhead, Roxas turned on his heal, but Axel wasn't about to let him go or so it had seemed.

"Hey, wait, c'mon, Rox, don't go yet—"the redhead flailed and jumped off the branch, landing swiftly, catching up with the blond in a few long strides. "Tell me why they are treating you like this! I don't trust the shit going on about you, all of us have weird stuff said about every one of us. Xion talked so much about you, I am sure you're not what they make you out to be, and you don't—"

Roxas turned around, eyes glassy and wide, as he recalled how the redhead had mentioned the black haired girl before.

"Xion… How do you know her Axel? No, screw _that_, how do you know about _me_? I mean... besides the rumors and stuff? I didn't see you the day she… the day they buried her, I am sure I wouldn't have missed you." 'Not with hair like that.' Roxas thought mentally.

Axel fell silent and chewed on his lower lip, a sad look in his eyes. Maybe Roxas had asked too much from the tall redhead…

Just when he was sure Axel wasn't going to reply, he did.

"Xion… She was a friend of mine. I'd say we were rather close. Before she died, she used to talk about you a lot. Told me about your…situation and how you weren't as bad as they made you out to be, how she couldn't do anything but just stand there and watch you go to school with these bruises on your face. She wanted to help you, but she said she couldn't, and she never will. Damn, I should have realized it the moment she said that…" Axel's face looked so pained, Roxas felt his stomach clench with pity, watching the redhead scratch his neck and thought that maybe, just maybe, he looked like Axel at that very moment. Hurt. Thinking that maybe he could have done something to save his friend, to make it better, to share some of her pain.

"She… we didn't talk much that week, because she said that she wasn't feeling well. Then one night she called me, said she wanted to spend some time with me, because she was neglecting me like that. It seems I wasn't the only one she called, all of my friends that were her friends too, got calls saying how she was lucky to have them as friends. No one really paid any attention and I didn't either. I didn't notice it. She talked about you, Roxas, and how she wanted for you to be happy, without all of this crap hovering above your head, ready to crush you the moment you looked away. She looked so sad, Roxas. And she was gone the next morning." He saw Axel's eyes glisten with unshed tears, raw pain resonating with his own and Roxas too felt the familiar hitch in his nose and a burn in his eyes.

"Do you see now why I helped you, Roxas? A dead person can't protect anything. I can and I will. She's right, the way they treat you isn't humane. Seifer won't touch you, I don't care that they might pick fights with me, I'll put them all in place. I'll keep you safe, Roxas. It is the least I can do. I don't care if you really are as creepy as they make you out to be, as far as I am concerned you're… you. Normal. So fuck them, and fuck the whole world for saying otherwise."

It felt like something fragile has broken inside of Roxas. He could almost hear it cracking, shattering like the shards of mirror hitting the floor. But it wasn't unpleasant.

Never in his life had he heard such kind words said to him. Words from a complete stranger who claimed to be good friends with his, now dead, best friend and wanted to protect him. It was so weird; the shorter blond just couldn't believe it. Axel was probably lying; he had to be lying, because no one had ever said words of compassion like that before. But that face looked so genuine, like Axel really meant it, like he really wanted to protect him.

It was a nice feeling, a feeling he had long since forgotten, affection soothing the deep slash wounds on his soul. But at the same time Roxas was reluctant to believe, he did not want to accept the redhead's compassion in fear that the moment he touched it he would be gone and then he'd wake up in the middle of the night, all of this just a drug induced hallucination.

And then Roxas would be alone, playing his pretend life, the locks in his heart still in place, no savior to try and unlock them using the keys Xion had left behind.

The hell inside in his mind rioted, shook, not willing to give itself into the welcome presence of the tall stranger who indeed, Roxas noted, smelled like ashes. The cup with his emotions was overflowing and he had no choice but to be swept away with all of those feelings, crashing into him like the sea waves into a sandy shore.

It was Axel who broke the silence, a faint tint of pink on his high cheekbones, shocked at his own boldness and straightforwardness.

"Ah, sorry, Rox, I didn't mean to sound like a creep or anything like that—_shit this is not what I wanted at all._ All I am saying is that... I wanna help you out a little. J-just_—ugh_ why are these speeches so hard, this is exactly why I don't give speeches, you have to think things through and I just went on ahead and blabbered, though you must give me some credit, it was kind of deep—"

"Axel." Roxas said and the infinite string of words was cut short, green eyes blinking at him, face red. It was really cute in some way to see the taller teen flustered like that, waving his hands around wildly. The shorter teen tried to hold in a laugh that almost escaped him.

"You're kinda weird, you know that right?"

"S-Shut up, Rox! I tried, okay?"

"I didn't say the speech was bad. Very inspiring and professional. Like an old man giving a speech. Totally broke through the walls around my heart and inspired me to do greater goods and for that I am forever thankful." Roxas felt a smirk tugging at his lips and he saw Axel try and bite back the small smile. "Also, don't call me Rox, Roxie or whatever else that will cross your mind. It is Roxas. Nice to meet you, Axel. Enjoy Seifer beating your skinny ass up for hanging out with the weird kid, I hope you don't mind."

"I guess Seifer comes with the whole package, huh?"

"Oh, he does. He _always_ does."

"Guess you're trouble then, hm, Roxie? With all that sarcasm, I might change my mind, you know?" Axel held out his hand for Roxas to shake. "I am Axel, part time your stalker, part time pyromaniac. I hope you don't mind." He used the blond's words against him and Roxas took the taller teen's hand and gave it a firm shake.

"No, I guess I don't mind. If you want out, the door is always open. And it is Roxas."

"Sure thing, Roxie."

Their hands lingered for a second too long before they broke away.

But the two of them did not know that the doors out had closed the moment they shook their hands.

There was no way out, only sinking deeper.

* * *

Axel was something new in his life. Not truly unwanted, but Roxas did not want to be selfish. He did not want the redhead hanging out with him. Axel did not deserve the looks he received and he did not deserve his friends trying to talk him out of talking to the blond.

The only good thing was that the beatings had stopped. And if by any chance he got a punch or two sent his way, it was done when Axel wasn't following him around, living up to his stalker name, and only on the places where no one could see. So that Axel wouldn't notice fresh bruises on Roxas' half healed face.

It felt weird to see himself in the mirror in one of his drug induced hazes. The boy in the mirror was no longer bruised beyond recognition, and for the first time in what felt like years Roxas saw himself without bruises marring his face.

He wanted it to stay that way.

* * *

Axel was persistent. He tried to talk to Roxas, wanted to make him smile, but the blond just shunned him away, ignoring most of his attempts. Sure, Seifer and his gang tried to get their revenge on him for interfering, sometimes going as far as vandalizing the stuff of his friends. It wasn't until Demyx's guitar disappeared without a trace, leaving the dirty blond hyperventilating till Axel decided to bring Seifer down. And boy, did he bring him _down_.

The fight that happened would be marked as the greatest brawl in the history of their school.

Zexion would ask him 'was the kid really worth that much?' and the more time passed, the more Axel was certain when he said 'yes, and so much more'. He started noticing just how beautiful the blond boy was without bruises covering most of his face, the light pink scars on his cheekbones making the wet looking blue eyes stand out in contrast, face pale.

It made Axel's heart beat faster and his face turn redder.

Somewhere in the corner of his heart he knew that he was falling for the pale beauty, his sarcasm making his heart race and everything about the boy was perfect.

He was falling in love with the boy everyone had called a freak and he did not care. He didn't care if Roxas was mental or whatever, all he knew was that he liked him a lot more than a friend should and protecting him was the best feeling ever, like he was actually getting stuff done.

But Axel noticed. He noticed how the boy would zone out, turn pale, look at something that wasn't there, shove the ear buds of his headphones into his ears and play the music as loud as he could, eyes squeezed shut, cold sweat sliding his brow. Sometimes Axel had to hold his arm tightly, so that the boy wouldn't run out into the street trying to save something that just wasn't there, or maybe it was, but Axel did not see it.

It was unnerving at times, but it wasn't something Roxas couldn't deal with and he did deal with it pretty great, whatever it was that was plaguing him.

He just wanted Roxas to find a peace of mind and he was more than willing to provide him that. More than willing to hold the boy close and protect him from the rest of the world and himself.

* * *

Roxas had asked Axel why was he here. Why did he choose this school after Xion stepped out of their lives?

"Oh, that's simple; it is because all of my friends are here. Plus, it is closer to where I live." The redhead laughed nervously, eyes averted to the side as he scratched the back of his neck, messing the long red spikes of hair.

Something told Roxas that he came here just so that he could keep his promise with Xion and protect him. A guardian angel that he was.

Yet sometimes he had thought that Axel was forcing himself to stay by his side. Just a feeling though.

* * *

Aerith said that he looked happier and his condition was getting better, but there was a certain worry in her eyes when she asked him if he was having any self harm thoughts lately.

"No." Roxas had said and settled in the brown leather chair, so familiar now.

* * *

Surprisingly his mother was home that night. She did not bother cooking him dinner, their relationship cold as ice. Roxas had settled for making some sandwiches and tea for himself as his mother was raiding the cabinets, searching for something, not paying her son any attention. Roxas stared at his own reflection on the knife as he cut the cheese into small strips. How disgusting was he.

How much he had resented his mother, the same mother that pretended to love him. Everyone pretended, _all of them._

The drugs were still fresh in his system and it took all of his concentration to not stab his own hand with the knife trembling in his hands. He hated reflections, it reminded him of who he was. Just a guest inside his own body.

"…Don't you ever wish to take a long trip?" Roxas had said to no one in particular, his voice quiet, and he was sure his mother hadn't heard him, but she did. She stopped rummaging through the cabinet and poked her head out from behind the door.

"No, I guess not. Depends on the trip."

"Ah… a trip somewhere far away. Somewhere… nowhere. I'd like to take one of those, go far away and never come back." Roxas sliced at the cheese, silent tears dripping down the tip of his nose, but he refused to make a sound.

He felt his mother's dark blue gaze on him, but a moment later she turned away.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Roxas."

"Of course you don't." the teen hissed, stabbed the knife into the cutting board and left the kitchen, his mother not even bothering to turn and face him.

Somewhere, nowhere where there were no lies or pretending.

* * *

_"Will you wait for me?"_

_"I always will. "_

_"Will you think of me when I am gone?"_

_"There won't ever be a day when I won't."_

He woke up drenched in cold sweat, shivers racing down his spine.

A nightmare.

It was getting worse and worse. The nightmares were pulling him under.

Roxas lived inside his dreams. A life that was not his own.

He wondered if Axel would think of him when he disappeared into thin air without a trace. Roxas no longer existed, just a shadow of what he used to be. He opened his blue eyes and squinted them, hoping that his nightmare was gone. It wasn't.

It sat right before him, a black shadow he was afraid of the most, yellow unseeing eyes stared at him, sucking him in, chilling him to the bone. Roxas clasped his hands over his ears and let out a muffled scream into the covers, not wanting to wake up his mother, his thin figure shaking, hot tears running down his cheeks.

"Please just go away, leave me alone. Leave, go away, go away, _go away_…"

The shadow did not go away. It stayed there for the rest of the night until Roxas cried himself to sleep.

And it did not disappear during the day like it usually did, and the day after that. It kept getting closer and closer to Roxas and he couldn't make it stop.

"No, it is _you_ who needs to go away." The shadow whispered in his haughty, sickly childish voice. "This is my space, you're not allowed here. You need to disappear and leave us be."

* * *

It was weird without Roxas around.

The more time passed, the more concerned Axel was. No one knew where to find him; no one was sure what happened to the blond. He wasn't sick, that was for sure and Axel felt shivers racing down his spine, cursing the fact that he never followed the blond back home. It would have made things way easier.

That was the day he found out.

He was talking to Demyx, voicing out his worries as the blond tried to console Axel, worried for the small boy himself. They were talking in one of the hallways when Larxene had creeped up on them and propped one arm on Axel's shoulder, posture relaxed, but her green eyes were gleaming with mischief. She nonchalantly stared at the two of them, pretending to check her neon green painted nails.

"So, I overheard you talking about our dear freak Roxie." The two males tensed at the name, Demyx's eyebrows slanting down and Axel biting the inside of his cheek trying to not throw the annoyance away. "Don't worry, Axel, the kid just probably overdosed and now he's conked out in his house. He'll be fineee, he always does that. Give it two more days and I bet fifty bucks he'll be here."

This time Axel really did throw her off. "What do you mean 'overdosed'? Roxas isn't—"

"Oh yeah, the kid always buys the stuff from Marly. "Larxene eyed him gleefully. "He's an addict. A serious one at that. I bet the whole rumor of 'can see what others can't' was created all because of it."

Axel gaped at her as if she had grown another blond antenna crowned head. Roxas…? His Roxie, an addict? Well, it did explain some things, but never would he have thought that the shorter one would do something like this. That was impossible.

"You're lying, Larx. I don't believe you, it will take a lot more than that to con—"

"No, Axel, she's not lying." A new voice interrupted and Axel tried to hold back from lashing out on the pink haired teen. "Roxas had been an addict for quite some time now; I always sell the stuff to him. I told him a few times to not overdose, but he just wouldn't listen. I mean it _isn't_ my problem how he decides to take them—"

Before he could finish, Axel shoved the pink haired teen aside and made a run for it, pushing people out of his way. Roxas… he had to find Roxas, he did not know how he would do it, but he had to. He heard Demyx shout after him, but he did not care.

Nothing else mattered.

Only Roxas.

* * *

He did not know how he ended up here. His feet carried him there automatically. A small park near the school. The rain was soaking him, clothes clinging to his skin, chilling him to the bone, but Roxas did not care if he might catch a serious case of pneumonia. In fact, he did not care about anything at all, as he dug his feet into the muddy ground and swung himself on the old swings, gaze locked with the empty swing seat next to him, the one Xion used occupy. The chains were rattling slightly from the wind, a hollow sound obstructed by the howling wind and splashing rain. Roxas kicked the mud with his shoes, not minding the brown mess contrasting against the white. All he wanted was to forget. The drugs still buzzed in his system calming his insanity and he kept firmly looking down, not wanting to spare another glance at the black shadow beside him.

"Do you like parks?" it asked for the fourth time since he got there. Roxas stayed silent.

"I really like them. My friends and I would play in them all the time. But then they forgot about me. Even though they promised…"

The blond wondered why this was so familiar. The sound of the forgotten friends. He then felt a cold touch of fingers on his cheek and almost tumbled down from his seat, eyes wide. The shadow smiled and retracted its hand.

"Hey, let's play. It will be fun. You're so sad. Let's play some before you disappear. You can chase me if you want."

Roxas stared, his heart beating somewhere inside his throat, fear, utter terror overtaking him.

This was the first time that… 'thing' had touched him. It finally got close enough to touch.

Roxas would finally disappear, the thing will claim his living space and he will be lost forever.

"J-Just go away! I don't want to _play_ with you, hell, I don't even want to _see_ you. Disappear to where you came from and leave me the hell alone, I don't want to see you, _I don't want to_—"

"I can't leave. And I can't disappear to where I belong, because you're taking up my space. _You_ need to disappear, not _me_."

"Shut up, just shut the fuck up and get lost, kid." Roxas huddled up on the swing set, chains rattling with movement as he pressed his palms against his ears, shaking his head to the sides, eyes shut tightly.

"But I can't Rox—"

"...Roxas…._Roxas_!"

The blond felt someone suffocate him, a tight grip on his neck. He clawed at the black snakes wound around his neck and trashed about, sucking in deep breaths of air, screaming in a raspy voice.

"Let go, let me go, damn it!"

He wasn't ready to die, not yet, he wanted to live-

"Roxas! Roxas, _calm down_ and stop trashing about!_ It's me!_"

The voice had a familiar ring to it and snapped the blond out of his seizure. Through wet eyes he had turned around only to see red hair and familiar features. Roxas was still scared, still shocked as ever, his heart calming a little when he found out that those snakes wounding around his neck were just the other teen's leather clad arms, still holding him. Green eyes flashed with hurt and concern, a sad look in them as water dripped down the edge of the hood from Axel's leather coat, pulled messily over the red drenched hair. He was there, right there, _real_, alive, breathing, his savior, his guardian, his everything. Roxas reached out with shaky hands, his hold desperate as he brushed his fingers along that familiar and dear face, thumbs rubbing at the tattoos, choked sobs escaping him.

"Axel, Axel, _Axel_—"he couldn't stop, his grip on reality was finally slipping away. Would he worry? Would Axel worry when he woke up one morning and found out that Roxas was no longer Roxas, but a shadow, no longer existing.

"It's me, Rox, don't worry. Everything's fine now, everything's going to be alright." The redhead placed his warm hand on top on the deadly cold one, squeezing as if to reassure the blond that this was not a fantasy, this was real. "Don't cry. I'm here now, _I'll always be here._" The blond felt warm lips press against his nose, his eyelids and even more sobs escaped, because this was real and he needed this. Some sense of gravity, something to hold onto, he was so desperate and he wanted more of this sensation, this feeling that he was needed and pressed his own light blue lips against the searing hot ones of the taller man.

'_Liar, liar, liar_.' He heard the hell inside his head whisper, an anger that did not belong to him as Roxas kissed him again and again, not aware of what he was doing. '_You will leave. They all do_.'

* * *

Axel knows that he shouldn't be doing this, that Roxas wasn't oriented enough to be fully aware of what he was doing, but he couldn't keep his hands to himself and neither could the blond. When they're back at his place and he's peeling Roxas' rain drenched clothes, he thinks that he's disgusting for using Roxas' like that, but the boy is good with his hands and he just can't stay away. He let's his body take control and do the talking, sanity locked away. When he runs his tongue along Roxas' lower lip he can only think how good it feels. When his heated hands slide down that pale body, he can only think how smooth and soft it was, and how he had always wanted to do this. When he hears Roxas gasp and moan as he writhes in pleasure underneath his taller frame, Axel thinks how nice his voice is and how beautiful the face he makes for him and _him alone_ to see is. When he sucks and bites on that pale skin, while he moves his hips in short but deep thrusts, those smooth legs wrapped around his waist, Axel can only think how much he wants to claim the blond as his and how they were meant for each other. Completed each other like yin and yang, they were destined together.

When Roxas screams out an unfamiliar name, his eyes glassy without a hint of emotion in them, Axel wonders why his heart hurts so much.

When Roxas leaves the next morning before he woke up, Axel wonders why he followed.

* * *

He was gone.

* * *

"Hey hey, let's play! Catch me if you can!" the shadow giggles and breaks out into a run.

Roxas follows.

* * *

It felt like a memory from somewhere long ago. The slow motion, the play, the same script. A sense of certain déjà vu.

But this time Roxas doesn't stop. This time he is not rooted to the spot. This time, he wants to save the dear child from getting crushed. A guilt he has lived his whole life with. The traffic is loud that day. Roxas vaguely thought that that child never looked around before dashing. He runs into the street and Roxas watches with wide, terror struck eyes as the boy is about to get hit.

His own legs carry him on their own accord.

The crowd is so _so_ loud unlike the last time; he can feel their gazes on them, on that kid who wasn't actually there and on his own tired and skinny figure.

"Watch out!" Roxas shouts and before he can push the kid out of the way, it disappears without a trace into the air. Roxas feels something heavy slam into him, he can feel his bones cracking in protest before snapping, skull smashing against the ground with a sickening crack.

And then nothing, just quiet.

They say that your whole life plays before your eyes when you die.

It didn't.

Roxas watched the red blood run down his pale broken palm and seep into the checkered band around his wrist.

"_Thank you, Roxas. You set us free._" The little boy flashed in his vision. "_We can go on that trip now. Your friend, she is waiting for you._"

That's right… Xion was there. Xion was patiently waiting for him on the other side of nowhere. They could finally reunite and go on that trip. The trip to nowhere.

His only regret was Axel. He left his Axel alone, but Axel could manage. Axel was strong-willed and kind. And Roxas will_ always_ watch over him, waiting for him on the other side to join them.

The sound was gone from his ears for the first time in years, the bees buzzing inside quiet, the beehive empty, and he exhaled, peace washing over him.

Maybe death wasn't so bad after all.

With a final sigh he closed his unseeing eyes, fingers twitching a little.

'_I'll wait, Axel. So let's meet again on the other side of nowhere. It is too bad we didn't get to spend more time together_.'

"Thank you… Sora."

'_I love you_.'

* * *

His world had ended.

The hand from beneath the truck twitched a few times and went still, cold wind whipping against his flushed face mercilessly.

He screamed a long and painful scream as he sank to his knees, tears overflowing.

Roxas was gone. He left him alone.

* * *

"I'm not Roxas. And you're not him… let go. You may look like him, but I'd never mix up silver with red."

* * *

"Roxas? I am Sora, silly. _Or at least what's left of Sora_."

There was no reason without Roxas in his life.

.

.

.

_There's a train leaving town, if you hurry up I think you just might make it__  
__Dammit I hope you make it_

_A heart attack is sleeping in your chest, waiting until the timing's best__  
__So make a move, while you're still breathing__  
_

**END.**


End file.
